Sinning with My Fiancé's Twin Brother novel · Chapter 7 of 32

Chapter 7: The Ride Home

"I'm choosing you," I said.

I said it slower this time, so he could watch my mouth do it.

"Laurent Devereux. The one who caught me."

A shudder ran through him.

Then he took my face in both his hands and kissed me.

He kissed me like the clearing was his and the night was his.

Like nobody was ever going to call his name across it again.

I went up on my toes to meet it.

My back found the trunk of the live oak.

The moss swung shut around us.

His hands were under my jacket, flat on my back through Papa's old shirt.

He stopped and lifted his head.

"There's nothing under this."

"I can't ride in a corset."

He made a sound that was half a laugh and half something else, and pressed his forehead to mine.

"Tell me to stop," he said. "Tell me now, and I'll put you on your horse and take you home and never say a word."

"If you stop," I said, "I'll find you in that barn tomorrow and finish it there."

He pulled the jacket from my shoulders.

I went for his buttons.

"Impatient," he said.

"I've been patient since Mardi Gras." I got his shirt open to the waist. "You stepped on me twice and I still danced with you."

"You danced with me because I was the only man in the room who didn't ask."

"I danced with you because I wanted to."

The shirt hung open.

I put both hands on his chest.

The hair was rough under my palms.

His breath stopped.

I pushed the shirt off his shoulders and let it drop.

Then I pulled my own shirt over my head.

The cool air hit my skin.

Laurent looked at me.

He looked at me the way a man looks at a thing he was told he couldn't have.

"Your turn," I said.

He shrugged out of his coat and spread it over the leaves at the foot of the oak.

I went down onto it.

The wool was warm from his body.

He came over me on his hands and knees.

"Sunday," he said. "I hauled you onto my saddle because I thought if I let go of you I'd never get my hands on you again."

"Sunday I sat on your saddle and pretended the whole way home that I couldn't feel you."

"Could you?"

"I could feel everything."

He undid my trousers.

He pulled them down my legs with my boots still on.

He stopped with them around my ankles.

"Boots," I said.

"Leave them."

He pushed my thighs apart.

The night air went straight up between them.

He settled between my legs and looked down at me.

His beard was three days old and his eyes were dark in the moonlight.

"You're shaking," he said.

"You're on top of me and I'm half naked."

"You're not half naked." He ran one hand from my ribs to my hip. "You're all naked."

He lowered his head and put his mouth on my breast.

I arched off the coat.

He sucked and I grabbed his hair to hold him there.

His hand went down my stomach.

It went between my legs.

One finger slid through me.

He made a rough sound against my skin.

"You're soaking," he said.

"Whose fault is that?"

"Mine." He pushed the finger inside. "I'm going to take all of it."

I bit my lip.

He worked me open while he sucked.

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